Not On A Hallmark Card
by seriousish
Summary: Skye's father discovers that she has another daddy. Post-ep for A Hen In The Wolf House.


"You're having one hell of a day, huh?" Coulson asked, his voice melting with sympathy, giving Skye more than enough of an opening to charge into his arms.

The father watched the surveillance footage. His daughter—comforted by someone else, someone who could be there for her… hold her in his arms without breaking her.

"We'll find him," Coulson told her, "It's okay." Skye so small and fragile looking in his arms, needing a strong grip to hold her tight, a broad set of shoulders to protect her from the world. The father trembled with rage. It wasn't fair—she'd grown up with no one, dreaming of him her entire life, and just as he was almost ready to be there for her, someone else took his place, _stole _his place, _stole Skye._

They didn't leave, though. The father's brow furrowed. Why was Skye still holding onto the older man? Why was he still stroking her back? The father looked at the time-stamp. They must've been holding each other for two full minutes now. She was a SHIELD agent, wasn't she? Even if Coulson was a father figure to her, why was he babying her?

"Do you need Daddy?" Coulson asked her, as gentle as ever, and Skye nodded into his shoulder. "Alright." Coulson raised his wrist-mic. "All operatives, return to staging. Skye and I will be conducting follow-up work."

A quick chorus of "Copy," rang out over the tinny line. On the other feeds, the father watched the agents abandon the facility. All but Coulson and Skye.

"Can baby make Daddy happy?" Skye asked, her voice grown high and childish.

Coulson nodded. Her whole demeanor changed. She kissed his tie, rubbed at his groin, quickly turning it into a bulge within his trousers. Stepped away from him, as skittish as a forest animal, scurrying out of her jacket and throwing it aside, then peeling off her shirt, then her bra.

The father saw his daughter's bare breasts as she fell to her knees and unzipped Coulson, bringing out a stiff cock that she lavished attention on, kissing, nuzzling, almost like it was more a pet than an erogenous zone.

A firm hand from Coulson on Skye's shoulder straightened her out. She gathered her breasts in her hands, each more than a handful, and cupped them around Coulson's manhood. The father watched, more in disbelief than in anger, as Skye stroked either side of Coulson's hardness with her breasts.

"Please, Daddy," Skye pleaded, "let that hot cum out all over your little girl's face!"

Now it hit the father—like a man who'd been shot without realizing, gone into shock, the sight and sound before him had festered inside. Now the pain hit him all at once. His precious daughter, the baby he had given up, she'd grown into this… _whore _for Agent Coulson.

He thrust out with his hand, exploding the car window to his left. His rage was overflowing, unabating, the kind that had killed whole villages in the past, but still he could not look away. He couldn't not know what Coulson was doing to his child.

"Baby wants Daddy's candy!" Skye whined in her babyish voice—actually reminding the father of Marilyn Monroe for a mad instant. "Baby wants all the candy in daddy's big, hard cock!"

Skye was tit-fucking Coulson with long, purposeful, _practiced _strokes between her cleavage, familiar hands pressing her breasts together around his straining cock, forming a tight but slippery place—perfect for him to fuck.

The father's fists clenched so hard that the bones cracked and reformed, healing instantly. He didn't even notice the pain. His mind was—off. Like a thunder storm, his thoughts were simply whatever the lightning struck. He thought of Skye's mother, Gang Qiao, with her small, delicate breasts. She could never have done what her daughter was doing now.

"Please, Daddy, please?" Skye begged.

Coulson's body was tensed and ready, his lungs pumping like bellows, his cock a steel rod smashed into Skye's soft breasts. He groaned, grabbing Skye's hair in two clenched hands—his grip actually making pigtails of her long, beautiful hair—(_just like her mother wore when she was little, _the father thought, a brief lightning strike before everything was thunder)—his cock pumped into Skye's fucking breasts, the big bloated head coming out toward her chin as if asking for a kiss. It swelled, a look of childlike glee on Skye's face as she realized, then he shot a thick stream of cum across her face.

"Yay!" Skye cried. "Thank you, Daddy!"

Another long stream hit her, splattering across her face. A strangled, gut-shot noise emerged from the father's throat. She took it so readily—not repelled by the sight or sound or taste. Like she'd done this before. Many, many times before.

"More, Daddy! Give me more!"

Later, the father would rationalize that there being so much cum—Coulson practically covered Skye's face and shoulders with his many bursts—meant that it'd been a while since he'd last ejaculated. At least he and Skye weren't doing this every night. So when? Every other night? Every three days? Every week?

Did Skye look forward to it, dream of it, pine away thinking of being ravished by 'Daddy'? Would she cherish the memory of licking the last drooling drops off Coulson's faltering cock?

But right now, the father couldn't think. He could only watch as Coulson helped Skye to her feet, giving her a handkerchief to wipe herself off, then gathering up her discarded clothes for her. Brushing the dust of the dirty ground away before he handed them back for her to dress herself. Skye was practically hopping in place as Coulson helped her back into her jacket. Hugged her again, from behind, his chin nestled on her shoulder.

"Daddy's little angel feeling better?" he asked her softly.

"Yes, Daddy," she said, rolling her eyes, mock-embarrassed.

"Ready to go back to being a SHIELD agent for me?"

"Mmmhmm!" Skye nodded eagerly.

"Good girl." Coulson playfully goosed her and she gave him an equally playful shove. When she started for the door, he grabbed her hand. "Just so you know, Skye. I believe you're an exceptional agent."

Skye ducked her head, maybe hiding a blush. The father couldn't tell from this angle. "Exceptional agents don't need their daddies."

"Everyone needs someone, some of the time," he equivocated. "And you don't need me half as much as I need you."

Now Skye was definitely blushing. "You're just saying that."

"I'd never lie to you, Skye. You know that."

She looked at him finally, her big, puppy dog eyes just wet enough for a tear or two. "Thank you, Daddy."

He shrugged. "It's the truth."

Now she stiffened, drawing her face into a neutral expression—hiding her smile. "Director Coulson," she said respectfully.

"Agent Skye," he replied.

Prim and formal, they walked out the door, though Skye snuck a look at Coulson as they walked in lockstep. The father knew—she wanted to put her arm around him.

_They _weren't her family, he was. So he would just have to kill them all for Skye to realize that.

Starting with Agent Coulson.


End file.
